


A Return to South Pacific

by Spencer5460



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Coming Out, Drug trafficking, Huggy in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Mob Bosses, Multi, Racial Overtones, References to Joe Durniak, Sexual Confusion, South Pacific (the musical), Use of Musical Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 22:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17272142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spencer5460/pseuds/Spencer5460
Summary: Ken Hutchinson, a cop in Bay City, California, crosses paths with an intriguing, dark-haired photographer transplanted from the East Coast.  As their friendship develops he is forced to confront feelings he has long been trying to deny.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by the musical 'South Pacific' by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, and book by Hammerstein and Joshua Logan. The work premiered in 1949 on Broadway. The plot is based on James A. Michener's Pulitzer Prize-winning 1947 book 'Tales of the South Pacific' and combines elements of several of those stories. The musical carried a strong progressive message on racism for the time. I have also incorporated elements of homophobia into my story.
> 
> Many thanks to Mvernet for her endless inspiration and support.

Dave Starsky made no excuses for who he was or what he’d done. Life was too short for regrets. He’d finally put the past behind him and made peace with himself. He found he could be a respectable member of society so long as he didn’t make waves. It was enough - for now. 

The southern shores of California were far from the tough streets of New York where Starsky had grown up. His father had disappeared from his life at a young age and his mother had had her hands full keeping a roof over their heads and food on the table. Even before the loss of strong parental guidance, Starsky had been a kid too high-spirited for his own good, too apt to fall in with the wrong crowd. And then there were the confusing feelings that churned deep down inside. The slow realization that he was somehow different from the other guys who spent most of their time chasing skirts. 

But Starsky found himself admiring broad shoulders and muscular thighs more than soft curves and big tits. He grew even cockier to cover up his fears of what that meant. A word that on the tough Lower East Side meant ostracism at the very least, but possibly physical abuse or even death. He was desperate to find his own identity. 

The writing was on the wall. It was only a matter of time before someone like Joe Durniak found the lost and confused Starsky and became like a second father to him. Durniak gave Starsky the attention he lacked, the confidence he craved. At first, the fact that Joe Durniak was a mob boss didn’t bother Starsky all that much. It was just business. Life in the ‘hood was tough all the way around and Starsky had been desperate for any break he could get. Everyone was responsible for their own choices, after all. Weren't they? And if Joe noticed anything amiss about Starsky, he never mentioned it. Joe Durniak was infamous for surrounding himself with a crew of outcasts. Probably because they tended to make the most loyal of subjects. Joe could be a great guy - supportive and generous with his friends - when he wanted. When he wasn’t pushing heroin to kids, that is. 

For years, Joe had only used Starsky for running simple errands, keeping him away from the nastier side of the business for reasons only Joe knew. Maybe the mob boss recognized the soft heart that lay deep inside the street tough's exterior. But it was only a matter of time before Starsky saw the results of Durniak’s profession up close. One day Starsky went to meet up with one of Durniak’s young customers, but found a dead body instead. It was clear that the kid had overdosed. A rubber hose still encircled the thin, track-marked arm, a needle lay on the ground near his cold fingers. 

Starsky called for an ambulance then emptied his stomach in the bushes. Later, in his seedy apartment, he took a good hard look at himself in the mirror. His sexuality was the least of his problems right then. He knew it was his soul that was on the line. So David Starsky booked a flight heading as far away from New York as he could get and never looked back.


	2. Some Enchanted Evening

_Some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger,_  
_You may see a stranger across a crowded room,_  
_And somehow you know, you know even then,_  
_That somehow you'll see them again and again._  


_Who can explain it, who can tell you why?_

__

__

_Fools give you reasons, wise men never try._

Ken Hutchinson noticed David Starsky, the well-known although somewhat reclusive photographer who was practically a local celebrity, from across the room at the Bay City Police benefit dinner. He was immediately drawn to the man’s dark allure. Starsky’s hair was thick and wild, he walked with a swagger and even when he stood in place, a hip invariable jutted out daringly. It was animal magnetism pure and simple and it reignited an uncomfortable drive in Hutch that he had worked diligently over the years to suppress. 

Hutch had been brought up to believe that erotic feelings for another man was wrong. Unnatural. Admitting his sensual attraction to men was beyond imagining, especially in his position as a detective on the police force. No one could ever know. But desire had flared more powerfully than ever when he and Starsky’s eyes met. 

Despite any misgivings, they’d sought each other out and spent the rest of the evening talking amiably and getting to know each other. Hutch was blue-eyed blond who’d been raised in a straight-laced, midwestern family. “As corny as Kansas in August,” he’d laughed. On the other hand, Starsky’s Brooklyn accent easily gave away his east-coast origins. 

Starsky told Hutch he was involved in charity work with troubled kids, which was the reason for he’d been invited to the evening’s event. He’d put together a youth basketball tournament and holiday toy drive for handicapped children, among other things. In additional to his charity work, Starsky said he earned what he called a ‘comfortable living’ as a photographer. Hutch had been impressed. 

Dave Starsky might have a rugged exterior but he had a heart of gold, Hutch had concluded by the end of the night. Maybe that was what drew Hutch to him as much as the striking blue eyes. A formidable combination. 

Hutch continued to keep company with the magnetic photographer as the days passed, despite the danger - or perhaps because of it. In fact, they quickly became almost inseparable. They were often seen around town shooting pool at the local bar, fishing off the pier, challenging kids on the street to a spirited game of basketball or even playing mini golf. Starsky shared with him his love of photography, Hutch showed off his chops with a guitar. 

But for all their time spent together, Hutch realized he hadn’t learned much more about Starsky other than what he’d told him when they’d first met. Starsky kept his life before California shrouded in mystery and, while the detective in Hutch couldn’t help but wonder why, the caring friend decided not to press. 

On the streets of Bay City, Hutch was continually confronted with humanity’s darkest side. The abused child, the runaway-turned prostitute, the pimps and pushers. So to Hutch, the way Starsky cared about people, especially the most vulnerable, was refreshing. Although Starsky kept a big part of himself locked away, Hutch knew he was a good man, and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered. 

One evening Starsky invited Hutch over for a quiet meal at his home. It was the first time he’d been invited to Starsky’s private retreat. It was there that Hutch’s belief in Starsky wavered, his relationship with the man came to be plumbed more deeply. 

Starsky lived near the beach in a surprisingly modern, clean-lined house that managed to feel elegant yet cozy at the same time. A selection of Starsky’s photographs hung on the walls. Haunting black and white urban landscapes were juxtaposed with shimmering images of a cerulean sea so inviting Hutch longed to dive right into it and lose himself. The way he often lost himself in Starsky’s eyes. But Hutch noticed that a few of the seascapes also featured violently crashing waves, as if depicting a hard-won tranquility. 

After dinner Starsky and Hutch sat out on the patio enjoying a spectacular Southern California sunset. Nature’s beauty left them both awestruck for a few minutes and they watched in silence until Starsky interrupted the peaceful scene. 

“I have something to tell you, Hutch,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically tentative. 

“Sure, Starsky. I’m all ears.”

“Uh, well, I want you to know that your friendship has become very important to me.”

Hutch didn’t like the somber turn the conversation was taking. What was the man going to say? That he had terminal cancer or was about to enter a witness protection program? All he knew was that his friend was about to reveal something very personal and Hutch couldn’t let him down or betray his confidence. 

“I consider you a good friend, too, Starsk. I don’t let just anyone beat me at pool, after all.” 

Starsky sent him a devastatingly cockeyed grin before continuing. “You’re not just a friend. I believe you’re someone I can trust. Trust, well, that’s something entirely different. Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “not many people know this about me but, well, you being a cop, I think you should know. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to find out any other way and think less of me or that I kept something from you on purpose.”

“It’s okay, Starsk. I think I know you well enough by now to know that you’re an honorable person.”

Starsky gave him a penetrating look and suddenly Hutch felt as though it were his secrets being exposed instead of Starsky’s. And he felt lacking. 

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Starsky said. “But you might not feel the same if you had known me ten years ago, before I came to California. I was young and dumb and got involved with some pretty bad people. Have you ever heard the name Joe Durniak?”

“I don’t think so.”

“He’s better known in New York. He’s a pretty powerful crime boss there. His specialty is drug trafficking. Anyway, he was like a second father to me after my own pop disappeared. We were tight.” Starsky paused and looked out to the ocean, focusing on something far beyond Hutch’s sight, before he continued. “After awhile I knew I couldn’t go the direction he was taking me. So I came out here.”

Hutch swallowed. He wasn’t naive. He was a cop for chrissake. He knew how messy the drug trade could get. He could imagine the things Starsky might have been involved in. But Starsky was done with that life, wasn’t he? Wasn’t the fact that he was here and not in New York with Durniak prove that? He hoped to heaven it did. He could see the pain in Starsky’s eyes. The man was scarred in places that didn’t show. But God . . . on the inside . . . 

Hutch reached out to touch Starsky’s arm. The feeling was electric. It communicated more eloquently than words ever could. 

Starsky looked down at Hutch’s fingers on his arm, his gaze so transfixed that Hutch suddenly felt self-conscious. Maybe he’d misconstrued the easy warmth of their relationship. He removed his hand and stuck it in his pocket as if the appendage was an embarrassment. 

Starsky’s eyes moved up to his face. “There’s something else you should know, too.” Starsky sounded even more hesitant than before and Hutch felt his heart clench. What could possibly make someone more uneasy than admitting to a cop you once worked for the mob? He understood now why Starsky had wanted him to come to his house rather than hang out a local bar or bowling alley the way they usually did. It wasn’t to show off his pricey beach house or photography collection. That wasn’t Starsky’s style. Starsky had wanted to have this quiet moment in his own personal sanctuary to bare his soul. 

Hutch knew how important his next reactions would be. 

“Hutch,” another swallow - “I’m gay.”

Hutch stepped back, stunned. But then stopped himself. Why should he be so shocked? In all honesty, he might even have been expecting this. Their strong connection wasn’t something he’d experienced with any other man no matter how close they were. In the life-and-death world of police work, the bonds that developed between partners were often much more intense than other outside relationships. But what he felt for Starsky was even more undefinable. Exhilarating. He felt emotional closeness, yes, but also a sexual pull that sizzled just beneath the surface. 

But gay? Hutch wasn’t gay. He _couldn’t_ be gay. It was . . . unspeakable. 

“I’d accepted the truth about myself back in New York before I came out here,” Starsky was saying. “But to come out in New York might well have been a death sentence for me. California is different. A little more relaxed. Open-minded, I guess you could say. It seems like everyone out here is running from something. I finally felt able to be myself. And it’s worked out okay. I’m not looked at like some kind of freak. I have a supportive community here. I’d like you to be a part of that.”

“Sh. . .sure, Starsk.” Hutch licked his lips. It was all he could think of to say. He hoped the gathering shadows hid the high color he felt bloom on his face. How could accepting Starsky’s sexuality be more difficult than accepting that he once worked for the mob? Love was love, wasn’t it? But that wasn’t what he’d been taught growing up. That wasn’t what society believed. But mores were fluid. Society might change someday - just not tonight. 

Suddenly up was down and down was up. Hutch’s skin felt hot and prickly despite the cool ocean breezes. Someone like Starsky should be repellant to him. But he wasn’t. Starsky was all the dearer for his openness and honesty. In a way, he’d trusted Starsky with his life. 

“It’s getting late. I need to get going,” Hutch said, and got up a little too quickly for propriety. 

“Sure,” Starsky said, keeping his tone light. “You probably have a long day tomorrow.”

“A cop’s work is never done.” Hutch gave him a smile as he turned to go but the smile felt as if it had been painted on. He wondered if Starsky could tell.


	3. There is Nothing Like a Dame

Huggy Bear Brown leaned against the counter of the bar and surveyed his humble establishment like a king surveying his domain. The place was small and unassuming, but it was also neat and clean. He made sure that the fries were hot and the beer was cold. Maybe that was the reason Huggy’s was such a popular hang out. Or maybe it was because at Huggy’s each customer was treated the same no matter who they were. It was a place where everyone from cops to crooks felt comfortable. 

The lanky, dark-skinned proprietor had another speciality, too: knowing how to keep his ears open and his mouth shut. An almost mystical talent that drew people to him.

When the Bear had started out in life he was already two steps behind - black and poor - and he’d seen a lot of not-so-pretty things as he worked to get ahead. Out of both necessity and desperation, he’d done some things he hoped to never do again. But when he looked back, he was grateful for all he’d experienced. He’d learned not to judge people and that particular wisdom had led to many unusual friendships and opened doors that might otherwise have stayed closed. 

Take the friendship he had with Ken Hutchinson, a local police detective who frequently stopped in for a cold drink and friendly game of pool. Hutch was one tough cookie, but he was also fair. He cared about the hardscrabble community as much as Huggy did. For better or worse, it was their home. It was that shared attitude that led Huggy to drop a tip on Hutch one day about a rumble he’d heard was about to go down. The police had arrived on the scene in time to break up the action before anyone got hurt. Meanwhile, Hutch never let on about how he’d gotten the information. Huggy’s reputation was safe.

That day, a silent, symbiotic relationship was born. 

When Huggy overheard information that he thought Hutch could use - the name of the punk who’d been smashing storefront windows up and down the street or where to find a stash of hot TVs - he discreetly passed it on. In return, Hutch made sure a squad car passed by Huggy’s with round-the-clock regularity and encouraged enough officers to get their burgers from Huggy that even his lunch business was booming. 

But not everything Huggy heard was meant to be shared. Beer and sympathy had a way of loosening tongues and letting things slip out unplanned. A wife who’d walked out on a heartbroken husband, the insurance salesman who’d lost his job. The young, dark-haired New Yorker who’d come west to make a new start. In that way, David Starsky, too, had become Huggy’s friend. 

That evening, Huggy’s all-seeing eyes took in two unsavory men who’d swaggered in an hour or so earlier and taken a table in the back. The men had stopped in once or twice before, drinking heavily and making suggestive comments to the waitress. Even though they flashed big money around, he’d just as soon they found somewhere else to spend it. Huggy seen their kind plenty - men who talked bigger than they were. They were into some bad business, Huggy was sure of it, he just didn’t know what. He tried to keep from listening in on their conversations long enough to find out, although he’d been tempted. He knew when to keep his nose clean.

The men’s beer mugs were empty and as Huggy saw his waitress move toward their table, he indicated with a wave that he would take care of them for her. She didn’t deserve to have to put up with their obnoxiousness. He’d just make sure she got the tip. 

Huggy came out from behind the counter and approached the table with a broad smile, keeping in perfect character of the genial bar owner, but stopped short before he could ask if they wanted a refill. 

“This town is ripe for the takin’. All we have to do is get Durniak to see what we have to offer. There aren’t any big operators around here for miles,” one of them said. The one that looked like a gorilla - only uglier.

The other man’s grin stretched over thin lips. He reminded Huggy of an alley cat - lean, mean and hungry. The kind you don’t turn your back on unless you wanted to get clawed. “Yeah, Durniak’s been wantin’ to do business out here for years. I guess New York just ain’t big enough for him. Or warm enough. We could be just what he’s lookin’ for. ”

Gorilla guffawed at some private joke. “Harry says he can deliver the goods. All we gotta do is hook Harry up with Durniak’d outfit. Then we just sit back and collect.”

“It’ll be like takin’ candy from a baby.” Alley cat smirked. “I’m tired of dealing with these beach bums, myself.” 

_These two have been watching too many low budget gangster flicks,_ Huggy thought. But the name stuck - Durniak. He’d heard it before. It was one foggy night a few years back when a dark-haired New Yorker had stopped in. David Starsky was his name. He said he was relatively new in town. He’d been thirsty enough to down a half-dozen beers - and lonely, too, if Huggy’s intuition was right. And it usually was. 

Being a SoCal boy born and bred, Huggy had asked Starsky about winters back east, hoping to cheer him up. Instead of stories about snowball fights and sled rides, a haunted look had crossed Starsky’s handsome face. Starsky spoke darkly about drug deals and dead kids in the park. About running away from a bad situation, with a little sexual disorientation thrown in for good measure. And a creep named Joe Durniak. 

Now it sounded as though Durniak wanted to expand his dirty business to Bay City.

As Huggy refilled the thugs’ glasses, a carefully schooled expression on his face, he considered what to do about what he’d overheard. It might be healthier for him to just let it go, but he couldn’t. He could tell Hutch, but by now Hutch was Starsky’s friend, too. The two were often at Huggy’s place, talking and laughing together. They seemed thick as thieves. Maybe they were more than just platonic - not that Huggy cared. But Huggy didn’t know if Hutch knew about Starsky’s past, and Huggy wasn’t about to put Starsky in the middle. That was Starsky’s call to make. Maybe he should just go directly to the police captain, Harold Dobey. But would Dobey take him seriously, a bartender from the rough side of town and sometimes snitch? 

Louie, Huggy’s short order cook, stuck his head out of kitchen and called to him. Louie wasn’t the brightest person Huggy had ever hired, but he was the best cook. Huggy left Gorilla and Alley Cat to their drinks and went to the kitchen. There was a slight, blonde-haired woman was standing just inside the back door, a heavy canvas bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair hung limply and her eyes were shadowed, but Huggy thought she'd be quite pretty in a flowered dress on a summer day...

“What can I do you for?” Huggy said, tossing his bar rag in the direction of the sink.

“I’m looking for a job,” the woman said. “I can do anything - wait tables, cook, even sweep up.”

Huggy had heard the kind of pathetic desperation in her voice a hundred times, but he never got over it. It was the sound of the girl who’d gotten pregnant then tossed out of her home, or the boy who was turned away because he was gay. The junkie struggling to break free of his addiction only to fall back into old habits a week later. He felt for her, but beyond that she struck him in a different place. She looked delicate yet determined - like a daisy struggling to bloom through the dirt. 

Huggy pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit, which she did with the eagerness of the exhaustion.

“What’s your name,” he asked gently.

“Bonnie,” she replied, not bothering to give a last name. Not that Huggy’d expected one.

He rubbed his chin. “I really don’t need any extra help right now,” he said. 

Her countenance fell even more, if it was possible. She clasped her hands to her upper arms where Huggy noticed dark bruises in a fingerprint pattern. He nodded to Louie who threw a circle of hamburger on the grill. It cooked up hot and juicy and when Louie slipped it in a bun and handed it to Bonnie, she wolfed down the burger more quickly than any petite woman they’d ever seen. 

After she finished eating, she stood slowly and gathered her heavy bag. Huggy figured that inside it was just possibly everything Bonnie owned. “Thanks,” she murmured. 

Huggy’s heart twisted. “I just remembered - Diane’s been askin’ me to put her behind the bar, wants me to teach her to tend bar,” he suddenly announced. “I think it's time I do that. So I guess I could use another waitress after all.”

Huggy was rewarded with a smile as radiant as the sun coming out from behind clouds.


	4. I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair

Hutch stepped into Captain Dobey’s office at police headquarters and was so surprised to find Huggy Bear Brown sitting in the chair opposite the heavy desk that he turned back to check the name on the door to see if he’d come to the wrong place. 

“Hey, Hutch,” Huggy called out to him sheepishly.

“Hey, Hug,” Hutch greeted him back. He looked from the Huggy’s dark face to his captain’s. Both were equally somber. “What’s going on?” This, to Captain Dobey.

“Take a seat, Hutch,” Dobey gestured to the empty chair next to Huggy’s.

Hutch slid into the worn vinyl seat, a thousand questions tugging at his brain. He’d never seen Huggy at police headquarters, much less in Dobey’s office, before. The colorful restaurateur and Captain of the Police interacted under the most tenuous of truces. This had to be an extremely important occasion.

Captain Dobey, as usual, didn’t beat around the bush. “What do you know about the photographer, David Starsky?”

Hutch’s heart leapt in his throat. What did Starsky have to do with anything? 

“We’re friends, sir,” he admitted stiffly.

“So I’ve heard. But - how good of friends?”

Hutch’s palms began to sweat and he squeezed his hands into fists to keep from wiping them on his pants - a sign of nerves that anyone familiar with interrogation techniques would recognize. A sure sign he had something to hide.

He flicked his eyes to Huggy, who looked back at him in pained sympathy. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hutch finally responded, a touch of ice in his voice. How he felt about Starsky was nobody’s business but his own.

“Mr. Brown here came to see me with some very interesting information. Are you aware that Dave Starsky used to run with a crime boss named Joe Durniak back in New York?”

So that was what this was about. There was no sense denying it. Apparently Huggy knew, too, and he wouldn’t have told Captain Dobey without good reason. If asked, Starsky wouldn’t deny it either. But Hutch had Starsky’s back - and he always would.

“Yes, Captain. He told me. But that was a long time ago. He’s changed.”

“I just want to know what kind of man he is now,” Dobey pressed, a little more gently this time. The Captain may go by the book, but he was still a good egg. 

“Look Hutch, I wouldn’t have said anything if I’d have had any other choice,” Huggy interjected. “But I just couldn’t let this go. It’s too important. Kids lives are at stake.”

 _Lives at stake?_ “Starsky’s a _good_ man,” Hutch vowed. 

Dobey’s posture seemed to relax at his officer’s declaration. “Mr. Brown came here to me to tell me he overheard at his bar last night that two locals looking to make contact with Joe Durniak for a big drug deal soon. He also told me that Starsky was an old acquaintance of Durniak’s.”

At the sound of the name, Hutch’s brain switched on to high alert. Bad was turning to worse.

“Look, I can’t have a drug kingpin like Durniak move in on our town. I was hoping that maybe Starsky could help us set up a sting on the operation.” Dobey planted his palms on the top of his desk and leaned in towards his visitors. “Do you think he might be willing to do something like that?”

Hutch’s head swam. Joe Durniak was coming to Bay City. The man Starsky had been desperate to escape. And now Captain Dobey wanted to put the two of them back together. What Dobey proposed was a dangerous undercover job even for the most seasoned officer and Starsky was just a civilian. But he was loyal and brave. And Hutch had a feeling Starsky’d do anything Hutch asked. He trusted him that much. But what if Hutch didn’t deserve that kind of trust?

“I’ll help, too,” Huggy offered. “In any way I can. I’ve been in a few tight spots before. Besides,” he looked from Hutch to Dobey and back again, “it’s my town, too.”

Dobey gave a “humph” and looked down as if to study the scattered papers on his desk. It was as much of a heartfelt thanks as Dobey would give. But it was enough.

ooOOoo

Starsky met Hutch at a secluded spot on the windswept beach. The ruggedness of the place only added to its beauty. He hadn’t asked Hutch why he’d wanted to meet him there. Hutch didn’t know whether Starsky’s complete trust in him made this meeting easier or harder.

The breeze whipped wildly across Starsky’s dark hair across his face as he sauntered toward Hutch. He’d flipped up the collar of his worn, brown leather jacket. _Did Starsky know how fucking hot he looked just then?_ Hell, not just then, Hutch had to admit to himself. Pretty much all the time. 

Hutch swallowed hard, then told Starsky without preamble that he had information that Joe Durniak was on his way to Bay City. When Starsky didn’t say a word, Hutch continued. “Huggy overheard in his bar that some people are looking to help Durniak expand his operation to the west coast and what’s more,” Hutch paused, he would have rather swallowed glass, “Captain Dobey knows you were involved with Durniak back in New York.”

Starsky lifted an eyebrow. 

“He didn’t hear it from me, buddy. From Huggy. But don’t blame him. Under the circumstances, he felt he didn’t have any option but to go to the police.”

Starsky smiled softly. “That Huggy Bear is one slick cat. Nothing gets past him.”

“Do you want to hear more?” asked Hutch. 

Starsky nodded with slow deliberation.

“Captain Dobey has a plan for Huggy to cozy up to these two to find out more about the drug shipment. Huggy’s agreed to go along. Drop a line or two about knowing someone in Durniak’s operation. Then Dobey wants to use you as a plant - make believe that you still work for Durniak. As long as you can walk the walk and talk the talk. It’s risky, but if it works, we’ll get the drop on the whole stinking lot of them.” 

A bust like that would send a signal loud and clear that Bay City was closed to drug traffickers. But it all hinged on Starsky’s cooperation. And nerves of steel.

“How about it, Starsk? Do you think you could do it?” Hutch asked carefully. “You don’t have to, you know.” 

For a long time, Starsky didn’t answer. He’d turned from Hutch to look out over the ocean. The wind had kicked up white caps in the distance and the waves didn’t lap the shore gently, but rather pounded at the sand as if in anguish. Why wasn’t anything ever easy?

“Before I give my answer, I need to tell you something.” Starsky turned to look at Hutch, his gaze penetrating.

“After everything I’ve just said, I think you deserve to speak your mind. I’m all ears.” 

“I’m in love with you,” Starsky said simply. 

Hutch blinked but he wasn’t surprised. In fact, he’d known it deep down for awhile now. He just hadn’t wanted to face it. He wasn’t as brave as Starsky. He already knew what his response had to be.

“Starsky, I . . . I’m flattered but . . . .”

“But what? I know you love me, too.” Starsky reached out his hand but Hutch refused to take it. 

“Don’t . . .don’t do this . . .” The pounding surf grew to a roar in Hutch’s head. _I’m not gay. I **can’t** be gay._ As Hutch stared back at Starsky, it hit him like a wave. Starsky was the best man he’d ever known. The funniest, most creative, nobel, courageous. And by far the sexiest. The image of their bodies tangled together flashed in his head and to his horror, Hutch’s groin tightened.

“Starsk,” Hutch pleaded, “I can’t . . ” 

Hutch saw his pain reflected in Starsky’s eyes. He turned and hurried away, never looking back. Leaving Starsky alone.


	5. Carefully Taught

_You've got to be taught to hate and fear_  
_You've got to be taught from year to year_  
_It's got to be drummed in your dear little ear_  
_You've got to be carefully taught_

 _You've got to be taught to be afraid_  
_Of people whose eyes are oddly made_  
_And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade_  
_You've got to be carefully taught_

_You've got to be taught before it's too late_  
_Before you are six or seven or eight_  
_To hate all the people your relatives hate_  
_You've got to be carefully taught._

Bonnie carried in the last of the day’s dirty glasses and joined Huggy at the kitchen sink. She’d proven herself to be a solid, hard-working employee. Quiet and unassuming, but friendly enough and eager to please. Over a few short weeks, Huggy’s engaging personality had drawn her out. It had become their habit to close up the bar together, helping each other wipe down tables and sweep the floor as he told outrageous stories and her laughter sounded like wind chimes. Huggy called it their “happy talk.”

A few nights earlier, Bonnie and Huggy had lingered together long after the bar had been closed up and cleaned from top to bottom. Huggy had brought out the last of the cherry pie from the cooler and Bonnie had made them both cups of Oolong tea she’d found he kept on hand in a special drawer.

“You’re probably wondering what my story is,” Bonnie had said as she’d stirred sugar into her teacup. “Why someone like me came looking for work at a place like this.” 

Huggy had started to shake his head but she’d just smiled. “You know everything about everyone who comes into this bar. Every suit, every street walker. Even so, you make no judgments. Everyone trusts you. I’ve seen it. There’s no reason for me to be any different.”

“I got stories myself, Bonnie. Some that would curl that pretty blonde hair of yours. I’m in no position to judge. Live and let live is my motto,” he’d told her. “Unless, someone’s gettin’ hurt.” He hadn’t meant for his eyes to drift down to the fading bruises on her arm, but he couldn’t help it. They just did.

Bonnie had rubbed her arms in that self-conscious gesture with which Huggie had become familiar. “They came from my fiance - Brian. That’s why I ran away,” she’d said simply. At if it were just an everyday occurrence.

Huggy had fought down the anger that began to bubble inside him at her words. To sit calmly and listen to her instead of rush out the door looking for faces to bash in was one of hardest things he’d ever done. But right then, she’d needed a listening ear more than an avenging angel. 

“I suppose it’s part my fault, too. That’s what our minister said in our counseling session, anyway,” Bonnie’d explained. “Good Christian women are supposed to be helpmates; submissive to their husbands. That’s how I was raised. That’s how it is in my family.” She gave a little shrug of her shoulders.

“But he’s _not_ your husband.” That fact was something Huggy could grab on to, not the religious dogma that had obviously been drilled into her. How could he fight against beliefs that were so deeply ingrained?

“He _will_ be, though. My mother said I’m lucky to have found such a fine man to marry. He’s perfect, really, according to her. He fits in perfectly with my family. We practically grew up together. Lived in the same neighborhood, went to the same church. And it’s true. He is a fine man, mostly. He just . . . has a temper and I . . . I’m just obstinate.” 

“You’re a lot of things, Bonnie, but obstinate isn’t one of them.” Huggy told her, the pie sitting forgotten on the counter top. _He doesn’t deserve you,_ Huggy had thought fiercely. _You were right to run away. Right to end up on my doorstep as if better angels had guided you._

Now, Huggy looked sideways at Bonnie. Even tired from hours on her feet, she was beautiful. Soft and golden where he was rough and dark; quiet and shy where he was outgoing and gregarious. They weren’t alike - it was true. But Huggy couldn’t help think that they complemented each other like yin and yang. Maybe even needed each other. 

One thing Huggy did know was that he had fallen in love with Bonnie. 

Huggy took the glass from Bonnie’s delicate fingers and set it down in the sudsy water. Then he took her hand back and enclosed it securely in his. The strong yet delicate form felt like it belonged there. He leaned forward, feeling an inexorably pull toward her mouth. For an instant, he felt Bonnie, too, lean in to him. His heart sang. In fraction of a second their lips would meet . . . 

But then Bonnie suddenly looked down at their hands, the intertwining of black and white fingers, as if noticing them for the first time. A shadow crossed her face and she pulled away, stammering. “Huggy, you’ve been a good friend. I don’t know what I wouldn’t have done if you hadn’t given me this job.”

“It’s been my pleasure,” Huggy replied. “You’ve come to mean a lot to me.” If only Bonnie could understand how much.

“You’re a prince, Huggy. You’re kind and you’re generous. . .but . . . 

Huggy felt a pit slowly open in his gut. He knew where this was going. “But you can’t see yourself being with someone like me,” he finished for her. He didn’t want to Bonnie to feel more awkward then she obviously already did.

Bonnie looked down sadly and shook her head. “What would my mother say?” she asked so softly 

Huggy barely heard her. He had already turned away. He wasn’t prepared to start a war he couldn’t win. 

He shoved his hands back in the sink, uncaring of the sharp edges that lay beneath the surface of the water. After a few minutes he heard a secure click as the kitchen door was pulled shut.

ooOOoo

The following day Huggy was late in opening up the bar. As he pulled out his keys, he saw a small piece of paper stuck in the tiny gap between the thick back door and its casing. Standing in the alley, he unfolded it and read its neat handwriting:

_Huggy,_

__

__

_I appreciate all you’ve done for me but I can’t be your waitress anymore, as much as I would like to. As much as I want to be so much more. I just can’t. I’ve never met anyone like you. But, maybe that’s the problem. We come from two different worlds - worlds I’ve been brought up to believe shouldn’t mix. Sometimes I don't know what to believe any more. I'm so mixed up. I talked to my mother and she said I should come home. I guess I really embarrassed her when I ran off. She said Brian is sorry for what he did and won’t do it again. She told me that I'm being self-centered in only thinking about me._

_I hope you understand. I never meant to hurt anyone. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me._

_Bonnie_

Huggy curled the little paper in his fist. The funny thing was, he wasn’t sure he still had a heart left. Huggy was pretty sure Bonnie had taken it with her. 

ooOOoo

Starsky’s first inclination was to turn down the proposition Hutch and his Captain had laid out, that of pretending he was still working for the east coast boss. Starsky had left his life in New York far behind him. He was a whole different person now. The day he’d picked up a second-hand camera had been a turning point. He’d taught himself how to take photographs that people seemed to like. He’d become good at it - enough to make a decent living anyway. 

Next, he’d come to grips with his sexuality. Little by little, he’d learned to accept it. To embrace it, even. After all these years he finally wasn’t ashamed of who he was. And that was a damn good feeling. The last thing he wanted was to get involved again with Joe Durniak and his crowd after struggling so hard to move on with his life.

But Hutch had asked . . . 

_Damn Hutch,_ Starsky slammed down the bottle of developer. He’d retreated into his dark room that afternoon so that, for a few precious hours he wouldn’t have to see or think or feel the outside world. So he could just get lost in his photography where he could manipulate dark and light, sun and shadow, to create the world as he wanted it to be. But Starsky couldn’t escape the memories of an overdosed kid or the heart-felt look on Hutch’s handsome face.

His thoughts drifted in the darkness. Starsky knew Hutch wanted him. Knew it better than he knew his own soul. But Hutch just wasn’t ready. Maybe he would never be.

When Starsky stepped out of the dark room several hours later it was just in time to hear the phone ring. Captain Dobey was one the line. He told him Huggy had everything in place. He’d been able to work his magic on Gorilla and Alley Cat, along with plenty of drinks ‘on the house,’ and got the two thugs to open up to him. When they’d bragged about being in the middle of big deal, working to hook up a seller with in a major east coast buyer, Huggy had smiled slyly. 

“It just so just happens that I know someone you may be interested in talking to,” he’d told them. Someone who could pave their way into the big leagues, if the goods were prime. The name everything hinged on was Joe Durniak. 

Gorilla and Alley Cat had taken the bait. After tomorrow, they said, if Huggy’s connection proved to be the real thing, they’d be the ones buying drinks all around. If not - well, there’d be more than spilled drinks to mop up. 

Tomorrow was it, then. Captain Dobey couldn’t promise Starsky’s safety. Of course, there’d be officers backing him up. But anything could happen in the blink of an eye. “What’s it going to be,” Dobey was asking. Was he in or out?

The question spun around in Starsky’s head and he sagged against the wall. He’d been running away from his fate for a long time now. But maybe the same forces that had put him in the path of Joe Durniak years ago were the same forces at work now. So that Starsky could redeem himself and bring Durniak and his whole gang down. To bring and end to Durniak’s reign of drug-fueled death. To prove to Hutch he was worthy of loving.

Starsky thought that when he’d met Hutch, he’d found his purpose for living. Yet Hutch remained little more than a beautiful chimera. Without Hutch loving him, well, he had no real reason to go on. 

Starsky straightened. He was no coward. It was do or die. Going out in a blaze of glory seemed just about right.

“There’s one thing.” Starsky said, holding the phone’s handset so tightly he thought he might crush it. “I don’t want Hutch being a part of this.”

“Ken Hutchinson is one of our best men,” Captain Dobey replied.

 _You don’t have to tell me that,_ thought Starsky. _He is **the** best man._ “I understand Captain, but Hutch and I are . . . close. The chances I’m about to take are mine, and mine alone. I don’t want him to interfere if things get hot.” _I don’t want him to see the ugly part of me; the part Joe Durniak has seen._

“I understand,” Captain Dobey said brusquely. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Tomorrow is Sunday. Hutch is going St. Matthew’s children’s hospital in the afternoon to sing for the kids. I won’t tell him the meet is going down.”

Starsky closed his eyes. How he wished he could hear Hutch’s smooth tenor instead of stand in the gap for the piece of filth that was Joe Durniak. “Thanks, Captain.”

ooOOoo

Starsky met Huggy in the alley behind his bar a little after ten in the morning. It was well on its way to being another perfect southern California day, warm and sun-drenched. Huggy had agreed to drive Starsky to the meet-up at the docks with Gorilla and Alley Cat. Hopefully, the sight of friendly barkeep and his funky jalopy, even at a comfortable arms length - would serve to calm the gangsters’ trigger fingers as far as possible. Then it was up to Starsky to be as good at gab as he was a camera lens. 

Huggy greeted Starsky with a sheepish quirk of his full lips. “I hope you can overlook me ‘outing’ you, bro.”

Starsky tensed at Huggy’s choice of words but, after a minute, grinned back at him. He saw nothing but concerned sincerity on Huggy’s wide-eyed face. “It’s okay, Hug. I got nothin’ ta hide. Besides, secrets don’t last long in this town. Especially when we got our own version of Mata Hari right here.”

Huggy didn’t seem to mind the questionable comparison to the exotic and mysterious dancer. “Just as long as I end up working for the right side,” he said, opening the car door and settling himself behind the wheel. 

“You don’t have to do this, Hug,” Starsky reminded him just before he climbed alongside him.

“Neither do you,” Huggy sent him a sidelong glance, then turned the key in the ignition and the engine gave a reluctant growl.

“Yeah, in a way I do,” Starsky responded. “Those kids on the street - some are so lost and alone. So vulnerable. I can’t let someone like Durniak be the one they find to turn to.” Starsky stared straight ahead as he spoke. If he moved, he just might crack and fall to pieces. “As much as I love kids, I guess I was never cut out to be a family man - if you know what I mean. Helping uproot this latest nest of vipers is the least I can do.”

Huggy nodded and he blinked away a building sheen that threatened to obscure his vision. He needed no further explanation. “I get it. When you don’t got nothin’ to live for, you just might have everything to die for.” The societal barriers they each faced might be different, but they were barriers just the same. Just as solid and immovable. 

Starsky’s expression softened. “I didn’t know you were a philosopher.”

Huggy forced a chuckled as he gripped the steering wheel. “Neither did I.” 

Huggy drove to the waterfront warehouse district, a winding complex of commercial cargo terminals, and pulled into loading dock D, as prearranged. The perfect place to hide - or get lost. “There they are,” Huggy said as a big, barrel-chested man and his scrawnier, meaner looking partner emerged from between an industrial building and a towering stack of large crates. Huggy slowed his car to a stop. 

“Stay here,” Starsky ordered him. Other than their little group, the dock was deserted. They hadn’t seen any other vehicles or people who might be undercover officers anywhere since they’d turned into the port. Not even dock security workers. Starsky grimaced at the thought of what might have happened to anyone unlucky enough to pull a Sunday morning shift. 

Backup had to be somewhere. Dobey had assured them they would be under surveillance, but it must be from a significant distance. Starsky had refused a wire. That was the first thing wise guys like these would check for. 

As Starsky stepped from the car, he felt as if he were stepping off the edge of the earth. This was completely uncharted territory.

“You Starsky?” Gorilla called to him.

“That’s me.” Starsky approached the two cautiously, sizing them up. He looked for a tell-tale bulge underneath their loose-fitting clothes that would indicate any weapons they were carrying. Not just guns, but knives, too. Other than his quick wits, Starsky was as helpless as a babe. He took a cocky stance, trying not to let his nerves betray him. 

“Word is you have a friend in New York who’s interested moving out to the west coast.” 

“I might. That is, if there’s anything out here that might be of interest to him.” The cautious double-talk came back to him like it was second nature. In a way, Starsky supposed it always would be. Not knowing who was telling him the truth, who was out to get him, who he could trust. And always, always watch your back. Nobody else was going to do it for you.

“Maybe we do, maybe we don’t,” Alley Cat sneered.

“Don’t waste my time,” Starsky said with all the chutzpah he could muster - the attitude of a man who held untold power in the palm of his hand. Who needed nothing and no one. Just what these low lifes would expect from an emissary of Joe Durniak.

Just then a dark sedan came around the corner and rumbled toward them. Starsky could make out the forms of two men in the front seat. “I’d like you ta meet at a friends of ours,” Gorilla said as the vehicle came to a stop on the other side of Huggy’s car, effectively blocking off his exit path. The only other escape route was to drive off the dock and into the ocean - and Starsky was pretty sure that thing Huggy was driving wasn’t equipped with wings. 

These must be the thugs with the goods.

The passenger got out of the car slowly. As if they had all day. He was tall - even taller than Hutch - and wore mirrored sunglasses, giving Starsky the odd impression that he was looking back at himself as the man approached. When he was just a few feet away he took off his glasses and squinted at Starsky. Maybe his sensitivity to the sun was because he’d just finished some time in the slammer. If he was lucky maybe Starsky could send him back.

“Who are you?” 

“Says he’s a friend of Joe Durniak in New York, Harry” Gorilla supplied, almost over-eager. Like a child looking for praise.

“That so?” Harry put his sunglasses back on as if there was nothing more there to see. “I don’t recognize you.”

“That’s because I’m smart. I don’t get my picture posted on post office walls. And I don’t go around name-dropping at bars” - this, a direct cut to Gorilla and Alley Cat. “Do you have something for Durniak or not?” Starsky spat out, the posing and game-playing straining his patience. 

“That depends if you can deliver.”

“I can deliver alright. But only the right goods for the right price. Durniak only handles high test. None of that diluted shit.” Starsky knew how to deal with scum like this. He’d learned from the best. They respected tough talk. The spectacle of two rams butting heads to establish dominance no matter what size the territory. 

Harry turned toward the car and motioned to his passenger. The other man got out and walked toward them carrying a wrapped package the size of a book. 

_Bingo. Now where are the cops?_ Sweat began to trickle down Starsky’s neck.

The other man was much older, he looked to be in his sixties, which was surprising in this business. Starsky figured most people his age ended up in jail or dead. Either that, or the man’s thin hair and sunken cheeks just showed how much crime and drugs, or both, had aged him. But there was also something familiar about him. 

The man must have been thinking the same thing. Despite his age, his memory proved quicker than Starsky’s. Or maybe it was just that Starsky had been too successful at burying the past. “Davey?” the man said questioningly and then repeated more decisively, “Little Davey Starsky.” A goading pronounced. 

Of course. Starsky should have recognized him the moment he stepped out of the car. It was Carl Samosky. He’d been one of Durniak’s guards, but even ten years ago he was past his prime and as an errand boy, even if a favorite, Starsky hadn’t had much to do with him. Durniak’s philosophy was that you either became top dog or you were weeded out one way or another. There was no retirement plan in the mob.

“Not so little anymore, Carl.”

“So it would seem. So this is where you ran off to.” Carl indicated the garbage-strewn docks. 

Ran off. Starsky flinched. It sounded discomfitingly like a dog with its tail between its legs. “What about you?” Starsky smoothly turned around the questions. The innuendos. “Aren’t you a little old for this game?” 

Anger seethed in the old man’s eyes. Bitterness. “I’m not a patsy for Durniak anymore. I have my own territory.” His sagging posture straightened the smallest amount. A repugnant thing to be proud of. Some people never learn.

“And yet, here you are. Playing right back into Durniak’s hands.” Starsky knew he shouldn’t have said the words even as they left his lips. What was the point in baiting a rabid animal? 

Gorilla and Alley Cat looked cautiously from Starsky and to Carl, neither willing to break into their heated exchange, either to toss water or gasoline. They were only facilitators, thinking maybe they should have stuck to boosting cars. Harry took a few steps back, a vulture waiting for the scraps. 

“You don’t work for Durniak any more. You probably haven’t seen him in ten years. What are you doing here making as if you do?” Carl’s tone turned dark, suspicious. “Harry, check him for a wire.”

“If you tried to set us up, you’re dead men,” Harry spat out at Gorilla and Alley Cat. Starsky didn’t miss seeing hands that shifted position ever so slightly. Fingers that stretched toward hidden weapons. The air seemed to crackle as if electrically charged. 

Harry stepped over to Starsky and patted him down roughly as Starsky fought to keep his balance. Good thing Starsky had trusted his instincts about a wire. He closed his eyes and sent a mental message to Huggy to get the hell out of there. Things were heading south quickly. 

“You have no idea whether I’ve talked to Durniak ten years ago or just yesterday. How about I go tell him that his former guard is working to take a piece of his pie? Maybe even sell him tainted goods?” If only Starsky could get Carl to show him the package he was carrying. Give Starsky proof he needed that this bunch was trafficking. Then he’d make a hasty retreat and the cops could move in. 

The cops. Starsky’d give his right nut to know where they were just then. They’d certainly proven they could stay out of sight. 

“No wire,” Harry announced. But he had come across the .38 Starsky had stuffed in his back waistband. “Just this,” Harry raised the gun and waived it in the air for all to see. 

“Fuck!” Starsky heard Gorilla exclaim. Then came a volley of bullets. Starsky dove for the ground. 

Fucking amateurs, Starsky thought wildly. At the sight of the gun, Gorilla must have lost his nerve and thought Harry was about to shoot them. Gorilla, followed by Alley Cat, had begun shooting - at Starsky, at Harry and Carl, hell, at each other for all Starsky knew. Suddenly the air was alive with gunfire, the sound of car engines and squealing tires. 

_Now would be a good time for the cavalry to appear._ Before Starsky could run for better cover, Huggy’s car appeared beside him and the passenger door swung out. “Get in!” Huggy yelled. 

Starsky didn’t need to be told twice. He crawled in, keeping as low a profile as possible and Huggy peeled away before Starsky even had the door pulled closed. Bullets pinged off the sides of the car and one shattered the back window. 

“You should have left when you had the chance,” Starsky admonished Huggy. All four thugs had coordinated enough to turn their firepower at them now as Huggy tried to maneuver around heavy crates, tow motors and other obstacles in their escape path. “And blow my chance to be a hero? Nothin’ doin’ my man.” The vehicle swerved wildly and Huggy tried desperately to maintain control while still keeping his head low. 

“I hope it’s worth it,” Starsky shouted between gritted teeth.

There was a moment that seemed frozen in time as Huggy turned to him. “It’s always worth it, Starsky. Ya gotta believe that. Takin’ a chance for something you believe in is always worth it. Even if things don’t turn out like you planned.”

Just then the windshield seemed to explode before their eyes as it was struck with a well-aimed bullet. The shock caused Huggy to veer the steering wheel hard to the right and the car was catapulted into the water to the bay. 

They landed hard in the water. Starsky’s head hit the roof. Then the world faded as dark as the cold, murky water.


	6. This Nearly Was Mine

_One dream in my heart,_  
_One love to be living for,_  
_One love to be living for_  
_This nearly was mine._

_One girl for my dream,_  
_One partner in paradise,_  
_This promise of paradise_  
_This nearly was mine._

_Close to my heart she came_  
_Only to fly away,_  
_Only to fly as day flies from moonlight_

_Now, now I'm alone,_  
_Still dreaming of paradise,_  
_Still saying that paradise_  
_Once nearly was mine._

Hutch looked over the faces the children gathered in the hospital lounge - an open and welcoming space that featured a large wall of windows. Beyond the glass, a patch of blue ocean could be seen in the distance. The group of young patients included toddlers to teens, all dressed in identical blue and white printed gowns. Their illnesses ranged from appendicitis to the things nightmares are made of. 

They’re all so innocent, so open and trusting. How long before that naivete is stripped away, thought Hutch. Maybe for a few minutes he could help all of them hang on to their dreams. 

He sighed and ran the tips of his fingers over the strings of his guitar. It was Starsky who had encouraged him to start singing in public, even if it was just to children. Not the most judgmental of audiences. But their happy reactions to his simple music was heartwarming. Hutch had begun to look forward to the Sunday afternoons he performed at the children’s ward, along with an assortment of local magicians, jokesters and balloon shapers. Anything to bring smiles to the children’s faces. 

But it was Starsky’s smile, dark and beguiling, that Hutch thought of as he began to sing a tune he’d learned years ago from the French au pair who’d once stayed with his family. Hutch hadn’t seen or heard from Starsky in days. Perhaps it was just as well. He could never give Starsky what he wanted. Or could he? He might never know. 

_Dites-moi_  
_Pourquoi_  
_La vie est belle_  
_Dites-moi_  
_Pourquoi_  
_La vie est gai_  
_Dites-moi_  
_Pourquoi_  
_Chere mademoiselle_  
_Est-ce que_  
_Parce que_  
_Vous m’aimez_

_Tell me why_  
_Life is beautiful_  
_Tell me why_  
_Life is gay_  
_Tell me why_  
_Dear miss -_  
_Is it because you love me?_

After Hutch had finished his songs and had started to put his guitar back in it's case, he was approached by a pretty blonde woman. She looked familiar but he didn’t recognize her as being part of the hospital staff or a patient’s family member. 

“Ken Hutchinson?” Her pretty eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. 

“You found him. What can I do for you?”

“I’m Bonnie. Your Captain Dobey said I’d find you here. You’re a friend of Huggy Bear Brown’s, aren’t you?” 

It suddenly struck him where he’d seen the woman before. “Yes . . . You’re a waitress at his place, aren’t you?”

“I. . .was.” Bonnie looked down at her hands as she wrung her fingers, and a feathery strand of blonde hair fell across her face. But not before Hutch noticed a slight blush color her pale cheeks. 

Hutch led Bonnie to the wall of windows and they sat down in chairs looking out. It was obvious she needed a friend. “What can I go for you?”

“I, I think I made a terrible mistake. Huggy told me he loved me but . . . I couldn’t see us being together. My family would never understand.”

Hutch’s heart twisted in his chest. This woman couldn’t possibly understand how her words were hitting home. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Huggy’s a good man.” Hutch couldn’t help but remember how he’d spoken similar words just a few short weeks ago. A lifetime ago. 

“I know he is,” Bonnie said. “But it was only after I left and went back home that I realized how blind I’d been. I believed the colors of our skin made us incompatible. But then I realized we had so many more in common than the things that made us different. And those are the things that really matter.” 

Hutch nodded. The world was full of misplaced beliefs. Misunderstandings. People who were trying to mold themselves into something they weren’t, or trying to run from who they were meant to be. He reached for her hands. “I understand - more than you know. But why did you come to me? What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been calling Huggy all morning but he hasn’t answered his phone. Then I went to his place and it’s not open.” Hutch understood the unease in her voice. In all the time he’d known Huggy, he’d never known him to not open up the restaurant. Even during the bad flu outbreak a few years ago, Huggy hadn’t missed so much as an hour. 

“I have a terrible feeling, Hutch. Huggy mentioned that he sometimes helps the police by sharing information he picks up on the street. He even said he’d be helping with a big drug bust.” Bonnie blushed again, but this time it was on Huggy’s behalf. “I think he only told me that to show that he was respectable. As if he was worried that being a bar owner wasn’t good enough for me. Otherwise, I know he never would have been that transparent.”

It made sense. Hutch looked into Bonnie’s bright eyes. “Huggy must love you very much.”

“And I love him,” she admitted sincerely. “I know that now. That’s what I want to tell him. But now I’m so worried about him. He told me if there was ever any trouble, that I should come to you. That I could trust you. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

Suddenly, Hutch’s heart sank in his chest. Of course. He slumped back in the chair. He knew why he hadn’t heard from Starsky; why Bonnie couldn’t find Huggy. It was Durniak. The sting operation must have gone down, perhaps was happening even as they spoke. And Hutch had been left out of it. Starsky must have wanted it that way or else Dobey would have included him. 

Hutch looked out to the glittering blue strip of ocean and away from Bonnie’s hopeful, frightened face. Starsky was out there somewhere, but who was watching his back? Suddenly Hutch was overcome with fears of his own. Selfish and terrifying. 

_What if something happens to Starsky? I’ve been such a coward. Such a fool. What if Starsky dies without ever knowing how I feel? Could I live with myself? Can I live without **him?**_

No, Hutch admitted to himself. He couldn’t live without Starsky. He loved him. Desired him. He’d known it for awhile now. He just couldn’t face the truth before. And now that he was ready to, it just might be too late. 

“Live, Starsk,” Hutch found himself uttering like a prayer as he stared out the window. “Live . . Live . . . _live_ ” over and over as the world around him spun and faded away.


	7. Epilogue

Huggy Bear’s looked completely different from the other side of the bar. A disconcerting perspective, but Hutch had been learning to look at life from a whole different angle lately. Bonnie handed over the order she’d just taken from a young man and woman in the table by the door. She looked back at them with a sad smile. It was clear by their body language that the couple were deeply in love. 

Along with Louie, the cook, and Diane, the newly trained bartender, Hutch and Bonnie had been keeping the place going for the last few days until a buyer could be found. Not just anybody, but someone who would care about his customers and the community as much as Huggy had. Although everyone agreed Huggy Bear Brown could never truly be replaced. 

With deep regret, Captain Dobey had told Hutch how the sting had gone down. Once bullets started flying, it was apparent the situation had gotten out of hand. The police had gone in as soon as they had clear shots, taking down Gorilla and Alley Cat, Carl and Harry. It would be a long time before another big drug gang tried to start up operations in Bay City, but Captain Dobey vowed to never again get drawn into a private party, no matter how promising it might appear. 

Huggy’s jalopy has been recovered from the bay but Huggy himself hadn’t made it. Telling Bonnie was the hardest thing Hutch had ever had to do. Bonnie had simply swallowed and nodded as tears glowed in her lovely eyes. She’d live with her regret and vow to do better. A special kind of courage, Hutch realized. He assured Bonnie that Huggy’s sacrifice would be remembered and honored by the bay city police department for years to come. 

As for Starsky, well, Captain Dobey had been unable to say. His body had yet to be recovered and his fate was unclear. Hutch didn’t dare to hope. He could only take things day by day and hope to be as brave as Bonnie. At the moment, Hutch focused his attention on wiping down the bar as someone, perhaps one of the young lovers, dropped a quarter in the jukebox. An old standard, corny yet timelessly romantic as only a show tune could be, started to play.

_Some enchanted evening, when you find your true love,_  
When you hear them call you across a crowded room,  
Then fly to their side and make them your own,  
Or all through your life you may dream all alone. 

When the chorus began, a new voice joined in, a understated tenor that was a pleasant counterpoint to the dramatic soloist. 

_Once you have found them never let them go._

Hutch knew that voice. It had sung along with him many times as he’d prepared to play for a crowd. You got this, Hutch. Trust me, you’re better than you think you are. 

Hutch looked up from his task and his heart swelled so much he thought it might burst from his chest. The smile and swagger he’d seen every night in his dreams had come to full, vibrant life before his eyes. 

_Once you have found them . . ._

Hutch hopped over the bar with a new-found energy. In three steps he had Starsky in a bear hug, or did Starsky have him? They clung to each other so tightly, leather squeaked beneath their grips. Hutch had a thousand things to tell him - how much he loved him and that he wasn’t afraid any more - but for the moment he just wanted to hang on. 

And never let him go. 

**FIN**


End file.
